Dreams
by VividMind
Summary: After Wilson left the hospital, House couldn’t stop thinking about him. Now that he has returned, House is having trouble with his feelings for Wilson. He can’t be in love…can he?


Disclaimer: I still don't own House...  
Author's note: My second story...this one has been lying around for months, and I had not gotten around to publishing it.

**Dream**

_(Based on television series House M.D.)_

Doctor Gregory House was a cold, callous man. He had very little regard for anything or anyone. He only had one friend, Doctor James Wilson. Unfortunately, he had lost that one friend when he had caused a chain of events that led to Wilson's girlfriend, Amber, to be brutally killed. He had said he was sorry, but he didn't know if he would ever be forgiven.

However, even though he knew inside that he cared about Wilson's friendship, he never let it show. He missed Wilson more and more every day that passed. It had been nearly 4 months since he had left Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, but House still found himself wandering into Wilson's office. He kept thinking he caught a glimpse of him at their favourite bar. The one with the strippers.

He wondered what Wilson was doing with his new "House-free" life. Did he have a new girlfriend yet? Or worse, did he have a new best friend? It was thoughts like these that caused House to lay awake at night. He popped a few Vicodin and took a long swig from a small flask. He kept it hidden in the desk for times like these, when old memories started to hurt more than his leg.

House decided many weeks ago to send Lucas, his private investigator, to go find Wilson. He didn't care how much it would cost, he had to know. But Lucas was too busy sleeping with Cuddy to be of any use. At least House could find out the color of Cuddy's underwear on any given day. But strangely enough, House had recently begun to lose all interest in Cuddy. As his depression worsened, she began to blend into the crowd.

His reminiscence was soon interrupted by Doctor Lisa Cuddy herself.

"What?" House slurred shortly.

"You have a patient that-" She trailed off as she saw the state House was in. His eyes were bloodshot and red, and he was trembling.

"Go home," She commanded softly, "I'll get Doctor Foreman to drive you."

"Uh hhunggh" House answered drunkenly.

He stood up and lurched in the general direction of the door. Cuddy rolled her eyes and offered her arm to House. He took it, tried to feel her up, and then abruptly stopped. He resignedly let himself be led to the front of the hospital. She sat him on the bench and told him to wait there for Foreman. Doctor Cuddy paged Foreman, and he was shortly on his way.

Meanwhile, House dozed off as he was waiting. Suddenly Wilson was there beside him. He turned to House and smiled the special smile House had grown to love. House felt his heart flutter excitedly. He reached his hand towards Wilson's shoulder, but pulled back quickly. Wilson's smile grew. He slowly leaned closer to House, so close that House could practically count his individual eyelashes. He leaned closer; their noses were practically touching.

Suddenly House was grabbed and pulled to his feet. He gasped in surprise and nearly keeled over. His head was spinning and he could still smell Wilson's sweet scent.

"Shit" he swore.

He suddenly became aware of Foreman staring at him in disgust. He felt himself turn bright red. He shouldn't be having those kinds of thoughts about a colleague, he admonished himself. Well, ex-colleague he reasoned. "_But a man!" _His subconscious screamed.

"Come on," said Foreman.

"Effing drunkard," He muttered to himself as he dragged House outside to his waiting car.

Foreman pushed House into the leathery seat beside him. He leaned over and buckled him up. House slumped back, with his head flopped over to one side. He began to dream again.

Wilson was sitting in the drivers' seat, concentrating on the other cars around him. House gasped in surprise to see him there beside him.

"Jimmy?" He whispered questioningly.

Wilson continued to be focused solely on the traffic. He turned off the main road, down House's street. They came to a stoplight. It seemed to last forever. Out of the corner of his eye, House saw Wilson staring at him. Wilson caught House glancing at him. He reached over and placed his hand gently on House's thigh. Suddenly the temperature in the car skyrocketed to what felt like 100 degrees.

"House," Wilson said softly, "House…"

"HOUSE!" Foreman yelled, startling him awake, "Get your lazy ass up!"

House swiftly ripped off his seat belt and got out of the car as fast as he could. He stumbled up the stairs to his front door and fumbled around for his key. Once located, he shoved it in the lock and turned.

He turned around and waved sarcastically at Foreman. Foreman took his cue to leave. He shook his head in disgust and got back in his car. House watched him drive away. Once he had driven out of sight, House relocked his door, went back down the stairs and limped away from his house. He didn't dare to sleep; he was terrified of what his dreams would bring him.

He finally stumbled home from the bar at around 1:30am. He fell into his neatly made bed in a daze, with his clothes still on. Immediately, the inexorable Doctor House fell asleep, curled up like a baby.

House was walking down the halls of Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. He wasn't sure what he was doing there, so he limped towards the front desk. When he got there, there was no one around. He surveyed the hospital from where he was standing. There wasn't a soul in sight.

Suddenly, he heard footsteps. He whipped around as quickly as his body would allow. He felt his body go stiff as he saw Doctor Wilson walking towards him.

"Oh God," He thought and began to quickly limp in the other direction.

Yet his efforts were in vain. Another identical Doctor Wilson walked out from the doctors' lounge. Then more began to appear from various doorways. The appearances started out slow, but within less than a minute "Wilsons" were pouring out of every available opening.

House finally found an empty room. He limped in and locked it behind him. He thought he was finally safe. Abruptly, a closet door inched open. House gaped at it with an open mouth.

"For the love of God!" House uttered.

Yet as the figure emerged from the closet, House realized it was not Wilson. It was himself. House paled and backed away slowly as more copies of himself poured out of the closet. He unlocked the door and ran back out. The "Houses" and "Wilsons" mixed in the crowded hallway. Everything was so loud. House's head was pounding. He needed to escape. He grabbed his head in his hands and screamed.

Many miles away, Wilson's heart was beating wildly as he woke up from almost the same dream. He sat up and shook his head to make the images go away. He threw off the covers and softly padded down the hallway from his bedroom to his kitchen. Wilson poured himself a glass of water and swiftly chugged it down. He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and looked at the clock.

It was 3:45am. He had to wake up at 5:30 the next morning to get ready for his first day back at Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. He felt warm excitement bubbling in his stomach at the thought of seeing House for the first time in 4 months. He smiled to himself and headed back for bed.

As Wilson was thinking these thoughts, House was desperately trying to remain awake. After his disturbing dream and all the alcohol he had a raging headache, and was in desperate need of sleep. But he was far too afraid to let himself close his eyes for even a minute. Finally, a quarter of an hour later, he nodded off into a deep, dreamless sleep.

The next day House got to work late, with a terrible hangover. Cuddy went to reprimand him for his tardiness, but was afraid to make him angry. She was terrified of his reaction when he realized Wilson was back. Would they ever forgive each other?

Little did she know, as she walked to House's office, that he was in there fantasizing about Wilson. She opened the door without knocking as custom, and was greeted by a fairly unpleasant sight.

"Holy shit!" She exclaimed in disgusted shock.

"Oh my GOD, woman!" House replied, "Could you _please_ knock for once!"

Cuddy just stared at him with her mouth hanging open in shock. Her eyes were slightly glazed over. She slowly backed out of the room, shuddering in disgust. He rolled his eyes and yelled after her.

"Every time you go to open a door without knocking, remember THIS!"

A few offices over, Wilson was sitting nervously at his desk. He shivered when he heard House's loud shout. He was sweating with nervousness. He gulped and coughed softly to try to clear away the lump in his throat. All Wilson could do was shuffle his old papers around, putting them back in their rightful positions. He bent over to grab a folder out of his box of things under his desk.

As he was retrieving this folder, he heard footsteps. He thought nothing of it, until he realized that whomever the footsteps belonged to had a limp. And a cane. And was about to come into his office. He whipped up from under his desk too quickly, as the person opened the door, causing him to become light-headed.

It was House of course. As Wilson shook his head to stop the dizzy feeling, House strolled over to his desk. He smirked when he saw Wilson looking so disoriented. He knew he already had the upper hand.

He opened his mouth to say something snarky that might just get him into Wilson's pants when Cuddy walked in.

"My office," She barked at House, "Now!"

"I-Uhh," Wilson had finally gotten his voice back enough to stutter out. House and Cuddy turned to him.

"N-never mind," He said weakly and lay his head down on his desk.

A few hours and many patients later, Dr. James Wilson was exhausted. He had been put on clinic duty that day, by an unknowing Cuddy trying to keep him from thinking about his anger towards House. Ironically, clinic duty _had_ helped him relax a bit, and drift away from his own personal problems concerning a certain doctor. Just not for the reasons Cuddy had thought.

Wilson put on his coat and was just starting to button it up when he heard a loud peal of thunder. Great, he thought to himself. He hated driving in the rain. It had always unnerved him, ever since he had been in a minor car accident a few years back as a result of inclement weather. He just hadn't seen that car, and then it was too late. He winced as he recalled the impact.

The lights flickered, drawing Wilson out of his reverie. He realized that the sooner he got going, the better. He didn't want to get stuck in a powerless hospital, now that was hell. It had never happened to him, and he didn't ever intend it to.

He grabbed his umbrella from where it was leaning beside the door and strode out. After pressing the glowing button, he stood expectantly beside the elevator, waiting for it to come and take him down to the parking garage. When the last *ding* finally sounded, and the doors opened, Dr. Wilson strode confidently into the waiting cab of the elevator, lost in his thoughts, not noticing the figure already within.

As Wilson moved to press the button to take him all the way down, he heard a slight shuffling behind him. He froze, noticing a familiar scent. Oh God, he thought, not now, this can't…

"Jimmy," A rough voice interrupted his thoughts.

He whipped around to see a rugged-looking Dr. House standing directly behind him. Oh no. Oh God no. He was standing so close to him. Really close. Wilson felt himself beginning to heat up. His face went red and he began to sweat. House seemed to notice this, as an impish grin broke out on his face.

"If you're done blushing like a schoolgirl," He began slyly, "I could use a ride home. My motorcycle isn't really the best in this weather."

"Ug-hu," Wilson tried desperately to clear his throat. He felt as though he was the little 12 year old he used to be, trying to talk to the most popular girl in middle school. But wait, he thought, this is a man! He realized that House was still staring at him as these thoughts ran through his head.

"Greg," Wilson started, trying to sound mature, "You really need to get your own car."

Well, it was a start. He frantically tried to sort through his thoughts to find something else to say. House, however, beat him to it.

"Now, now Jimmy. You know cripples like me can't drive cars. We take great pleasure in getting _rides-_" He emphasized this word deviously, "from our great buddies like you."

"Cripples can so---" He quickly fell silent as he realized what House had previously implied. A moment of awkward silence passed as Wilson mulled over House's words.

"F-funny…" He finally muttered, half to himself. He wondered if House was just teasing him, or if he felt the same way he did. For the rest of the short ride down to the parking garage, they were both dead silent.

As Wilson was contemplating House's comment, House was inwardly cursing himself for saying such a thing. This was getting way out of hand. He needed to either walk away now or…There was no "or," he quickly reprimanded himself.

He glanced over at Wilson and had his resolve completely melted away. Wilson looked so…beautiful. His deep, chocolaty-brown eyes were slightly glazed over, and his rosy lips were partly open in thought. As House looked at his neatly styled brown hair, he had the urge to stroke it. He wanted to mess it up, to ruffle it around.

House quickly glanced away as the elevator brusquely beeped and Wilson's head turned towards him. House quickly cut in front of Wilson and exited the elevator into a deafening roar of rain on the roof. He could do this…he could do this…

"Greg!" Wilson said loudly, fighting to be heard over the teeming rain from outside. "My car is this way!"

House spun around and resignedly limped after Wilson. So much for being cool and collected, he thought. He turned red as he remembered that the worst was probably yet to come.

Wilson chuckled to himself as House trailed along behind him. This was starting to get fun. He reached into his thick coat pocket for his keys and drew them out. He pressed the little button on the remote twice. His car beeped and unlocked accordingly.

"Put your cane in the back," He commanded House as he got behind the wheel.

House grudgingly did as Wilson had asked, and then clambered into the seat beside him. Not being in control with Wilson was very disconcerting. He needed power at all times. He tried to think of something to say to put Wilson back in his place. Suddenly he had an impish idea.

"So…I hear the nurse from the Maternity Wing has the hots for you."

"Uh…oh yeah?" Wilson replied uncomfortably as he backed out of his parking space.

"Yeah, real sexy one too," House continued. "You interested?"

"Uh, yeah, sure…maybe…" He replied after a moment of thought. House didn't miss his flash of hesitance, and quickly took over.

"Well, well, Wilson. It seems as though you are not interested. Care to tell me why?" House asked deviously as Wilson tried desperately to concentrate on driving through the wet, slippery streets.

Wilson blushed furiously at his question. He opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by House.

"Ahah! I know the exact reason!" House growled playfully.

"Uh…ah…why?" Wilson stuttered. He quickly changed lanes to avoid a car that was stopped to turn left.

"You obviously…" Wilson began to sweat.

"Have the hots for…" Wilson gulped nervously and gripped the steering wheel tighter.

"Cuddy!" House finished.

"I do not!" Wilson gasped indignantly, momentarily forgetting his predicament. He slammed on the brakes as he nearly rear-ended another car at an unexpected stop sign.

"Then care to tell me who the lucky lady is?" House inquired slyly, after the car had screeched to a stop.

Wilson remained silent as he turned down his street. He finally spoke as he turned the car into House's driveway.

"None of your business," He replied as he put the car in park, "Get out."

House continued to just sit there in silence.

"Now!" Wilson commanded, "Go!"

House grudgingly obeyed.

"Be a gentleman, will you." He said sarcastically, "Get my cane out of the trunk."

Wilson reluctantly unbuckled his seat belt. He reached under his seat to pop the trunk. He opened the car door and walked around to the back. He quickly removed House's cane from the trunk and walked to the opposite side of the car. House quickly stood up to accept his offering. House grabbed for his cane, but Wilson didn't let go. House quickly glanced up into Wilson's deep, chocolaty eyes. What he saw in them shocked him. There was something deep and passionate about the way he was staring at House.

Wilson was lost in thought. He felt so aroused suddenly, just from the way they were holding the cane. He couldn't help but stare longingly at the gruff doctor below him. Wilson felt electricity jolt through him as he realized that House's bright, icy blue eyes were looking back at his.

Wilson quickly cleared his throat and let go of House's cane. He walked back around the car and got in without a word. House stood up and limped to his front stoop. He turned back around and said softly:

"Sweet dreams, James."

He didn't know, however, that Wilson had heard him. House shuffled slowly up to his front door, and let himself in. He felt very disjointed. Did Wilson feel the same way about him that he felt about Wilson? How was he ever going to face him at work tomorrow!? He quickly prepared for bed and drifted off into a surprisingly dreamless sleep.

However, that was not to be said for Wilson. He could barely get to sleep, and when he did, Wilson had a very lucid dream.

Wilson woke up with a gasp, to find House lying beside him. He sat up quickly, tearing the blanket off of the very naked doctor beside him. He gasped once again, rousing the older doctor. House sat up and rubbed his eyes. _So cute_, thought Wilson as he watched House curiously. He leaned over and placed a soft kiss on House's head.

House turned towards Wilson with an impish grin on his face. He leaned in so that their noses were touching. Their lips slowly met in a warm, gentle embrace. Wilson leaned in and pressed himself closer to House. He felt sparks and tingles throughout his entire body.

Suddenly he jerked awake, in a cold sweat. He felt the bed beside him. It was stone cold.

"Shit," He mumbled, wondering how he could have had thought his dream was real.

It was at this moment that his alarm decided to go off very noisily. He jumped straight off his bed and collided with his dresser. His foot got caught under it, and he went tumbling to the floor.

"Shit," He uttered again as he hobbled to the bathroom to fetch a bandage for his bleeding toe.

A few hours after these events, House was limping around his apartment, trying to find his favourite CD. He had woken up in one of his moods, where nothing could cheer him up. He had moped around Princeton-Plainsboro all day in a funk. House paused for a few seconds to aimlessly gaze out his window at the bleary late-evening darkness. He sighed and continued his search. He finally located the CD a few minutes later, under a pile of tattered sheet music. He popped it into the machine, turned it up loud, and plunked himself on his couch.

In a matter of seconds, he found himself in bitter tears. He didn't know why or how. He just lay there, cradling himself, wishing the pain would go away. He wished that he wasn't so confused about Wilson. He wished…he wished that he could be with Wilson. But there was something inside Doctor House that was saying no…that being with Wilson just wasn't right.

He wasn't gay, was he? No, Doctor House was the ultimate womanizer; he was constantly sexualizing his female coworkers. But there was something about Wilson…something that just made him feel so right. More tears fell as he realized the harsh truth: He was in love with Wilson, and there was nothing he could do about it. As he lay there sobbing with the tragic music blasting from the speakers, he failed to hear the knock at his door.

Dr. Wilson stood outside House's apartment with a worried look on his face. He wrung his hands nervously as he waited for House to answer the door. He quickly knocked again when there was no response, and rocked back and forth on his heels. There was no response this time either.

After waiting for a few more minutes, Wilson became worried about House. What if he had overdosed again? _This is it_, he decided. He pulled out the spare key he kept for emergencies and hastily turned it in the lock. He paused for a moment before he opened the door, mentally preparing himself. He slowly pushed open the door. A deafening wave of music blasted out at him.

He saw House on the couch, with his back to Wilson. Wilson walked over to the stereo controls and turned the music off. This startled House out of his miserable state. He whipped around as fast as his sore body could to stare bewilderedly at Wilson. Wilson was shocked by what he saw. House's face was streaked with tears and his eyes were bloodshot and red. His hair was matted and sticking up in chunks from burying his face against the couch.

Wilson didn't know what to do, until House called out his name.

"Jimmy-" House's voice cracked.

Wilson slowly walked over to the sofa and sat down beside House. He took House's head onto his lap and stroked his hair until it was flattened back into place. House just looked longingly up at him. He slowly rose, until he was sitting upright, next to Wilson. House looked deeply into Wilson's chocolaty eyes, leaned forward and kissed Wilson. Wilson was shocked at first, but soon deepened the kiss.

House reached around and grabbed a fistful of Wilson's soft brown hair. Wilson's tongue pushed against House's closed lips, begging for entry. House obliged, parting his lips for Wilson. Soon their tongues were tangling together, and their hands blindly groping each other. As they kissed, Wilson grabbed Doctor House's shoulders, and pushed him down onto the couch.

"Watch…the…leg…" House mumbled softly between kisses.

Wilson obliged and lay down gently on top of House. They continued to make out, as their hands began to wander. Wilson reached down and began to pull on House's zipper. House quickly placed his hand over Wilson's to stop him.

"I'm…not ready…I-I'm sorry, I…I just can't," He mumbled apologetically.

Wilson pulled back and gazed deeply into his eyes. A moment passed before he spoke.

"You don't need to apologize. I'm…" Wilson desperately searched for his words, "here for you."

He rolled gently off House, and wrapped his arms around him so that they were spooning. He stroked House's hair, and felt the older doctor's body relax. House let out a shaky post-weep sigh. Wilson continued to stroke his hair until House fell into a comfortable slumber, wrapped up in his lover's arms. Wilson nestled his head into the crook of House's neck and drifted off to sleep as well.

It is needless to say that they both had sweet dreams that night.


End file.
